She Lies
by J. Merritt
Summary: It's not that she doesn't look forward to their rendezvous. On the contrary, she anticipates them too eagerly for her liking.


**Title: She Lies**

**Summary: **It's not that she doesn't look forward to their rendezvous. On the contrary, she anticipates them too eagerly for her liking.

[ Leah & Loki © Journey Into Mystery - Marvel ]

* * *

It's past midnight when she finally makes it to their room.

"You're late."

She always is. It's not that she doesn't look forward to their rendezvous. On the contrary, she anticipates them too eagerly for her liking. So she makes him wait, dawdling away time until her feet betray her and, once again, she stands before the hotel.

"I've a kingdom to rule, Loki. You might recall the difficultly of that from your infrequent successful coups." She smiles sweetly, excusing herself to change. He'll make her pay for that little quip later. She'll use it as a reminder how much she hates him. Maybe one of these times it will be enough to keep her away. She knows it won't be.

So long as they live, they'll never be able to separate themselves from each other. Death seems an unlikely solution either, considering her occupation. From the moment Loki dipped Twilight's Shadow into her blood, their fates were sealed. She wonders had either of them had been aware of the consequences if they would have acted differently. Would she have wanted him to? Most days she tells herself, yes. Some days she almost believes it.

He's sipping a glass of Romanée-Conti when she emerges, his naked body bathed in the neon lights of Vegas. She allows her eyes to roam over his exposed body, freely enjoying the rare treat of his unguarded flesh. His shoulders flex, muscles rippling beneath scarred flesh. Some are familiar, wounds she treated long ago as a young maid, most she can only wonder about. She's certain all were deserved.

Loki turns when she steals the glass from his hand. The rich burgundy wine smells of spice and leather, though it's violets, wild cherries and licorice that splash over her tongue. Deceptive. She thinks it a perfect fit for him.

Hooking the strap of her chemise, he pulls it aside, his fingers trailing down her arm. His lips brush her shoulder, lingering against her neck while his free hand works at her bra.

"You're in a mood tonight. Expecting Thor to drop in?"

She feels his smirk. "He does have a habit of ruining my fun."

"Perhaps if your idea of fun didn't include ransacking his kingdom-"

Loki growls, fingers digging into her scalp snapping her head back. "Let's not drag my brother into our bed."

"Pity. I wonder which of us would enjoy that more."

His eyes flash and, for a moment, she believes he'll hurt her. That he may finally give her a poison strong enough to bury their twisted relationship sends a chilling bolt of excitement down her spine. Instead he cups her face gently, his voice deceptively soft compared to the fierce grip of the hand tangled in her hair.

"Leah, stop."

She hates when he calls her that; hates the power of _that_ name on his lips.

Eons of plot twists, unexpected endings and brand new beginnings - nothing has been enough to re-write her essence. For all her cunning, she remains a slave to the part her wrote for her. Unable even to break free of the name he assigned to her; a name that, on his lips, still causes her heart to flutter involuntarily.

Frankly, that the writing of a lonely prepubescent boy should bind the Queen of Hel so completely pisses her off.

"I'm not Leah. Not anymore."

"I'm not _that_ Loki. I never was."

Scowling she slaps his hand away, finishing the last gulp of wine from the glass. He doesn't give her a chance to pour a second.

His kiss, like the wine, leaves her heady. The moan escapes her lips before she can catch it. Loki doesn't give her a chance to retract it. His hands grab her ass, thrusting her hips against his. Holding her there, balancing on the tips of her toes, he devours her. Hungry kisses bruise her lips, teeth nipping at the soft flesh. She gasps, fisting her hands into his shoulders, when his fingers slip between her legs.

She grinds against him, already needing him more than she'd care to admit. More than anything, she wants to feel him inside her. Loki knows this. His fingers remain intentionally, tantalizingly, restricted through the thin lace underwear.

The game never changes with them. Desire is a weapon they've both learned to wield well and neither willingly relinquishes that power. The satisfaction of having the other beg is almost as pleasing as the orgasm itself. She wonders, sometimes, what would happen if they simply stopped playing and enjoyed the other's body like normal lovers, but they are not normal lovers. At best they're enemies that sometimes fuck. At least that's the lie she prefers.

"Do you like that?" he teases.

"Shut up Loki."

"You sound a little breathless. Perhaps we should stop? Pour another glass-"

She grabs his hair, forcefully pushing his head down to her breasts. "I said shut up."

Loki happily redirects his attention, his hands massaging her breasts. His mouth on her bare nipple surprises her. It would seem Loki's hands are as deft as his tongue.

"If you've torn another one of my tops…"

His hands slide up her back, pushing her into his grasp. Loki wraps his arms tightly around her, holding her still, while his tongue circles her nipple. By the time he moves to her other breast, her chest is heaving against his mouth. She watches, her stomach tightening as he licks, then sucks her nipples.

He drags her to the bed, his fingers tearing the delicate lace in his haste. The tattered remains of her underwear join her previously discarded clothing. Peering through heavy lashes, she catches his hungry gaze. The throbbing between her legs intensifies, anticipation feeding the fire his touch has ignited.

Smug satisfaction bubbles in her chest as he kneels before the Queen of Hel. Forcefully she bites her tongue doubting her inner monologue would be as amusing to him as it is to her.

He starts at her feet, fingers trailing lightly over her ankle, up her leg, a soft kiss on her knee, feverish pecks up her thigh. Hot breath washes over her, his tongue circling her clit.

Loki wastes no time proving his tongue is his most valuable asset. Each flick of his silver anvil has her squirming and gasping, pumping her hips, grinding against his mouth, anything to release the tightening pressure. She arches against the power of her orgasm, her nails biting into palms hard enough to draw blood.

He chuckles, sliding up her body to invade her mouth. She moans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue and feels him smirk against her lips. It turns her stomach.

Once again she's fallen into the role he designed for her. As a young boy, he'd desired only her friendly companionship. Tonight he'd desired a different kind of companionship. Her only consolation in this twisted fairytale is her unique understanding of the author. She may have been written to fulfill his fantasy, but that gives her power over him. A power no other has. Before this night is over, she'll remind him of that.

Lifting her hips, she grinds against him, delighting in his gasp. Nails rack down his back, earning her an appreciative hiss as he arches into her.

"Leah-"

"It's Hela now, or your Majesty. I'm flexible," she reminds him, pushing him onto his back.

He smirks, linking his hands behind his head as she straddles him. "I recall."

Her breasts press into his chest as she leans down, her lips brushing against his ear. "Shall we play a game?"

"I thought we already were."

She ignores him. "The rules are simple." She brushes a hand over his face, his eyes fluttering shut as she does. "Guess where I'll kiss you next. You can't open your eyes. You can't touch me. If you do, I stop, and I win."

"I never lose."

"Thor would disagree."

"My brother and I rarely agree on anything. Jaw."

She smirks, releasing his ear to plant a series of kisses down his jaw.

"Neck, clavicle, chest," he prattles on; she obliges him. "Nippl-ah!"

He groans, nonchalance forgotten as she drags her nails down his side, her lips trailing light kisses in their wake.

"St-stomach," he gasps.

She moves to his hips instead, her tongue licking the sensitive skin until Loki is arching into her.

"Where next dear Loki?" she inquires, nails lightly scraping across his belly.

His tongue darts out, moistening his lips. His eyes strain to remain shut, his fists clenching the pillow. He's panting now, as desperate for release as she was earlier.

"Here?" she asks, placing a kiss on the inside of his thigh. She watches his erection quiver. "Or perhaps here?" She moves up an inch, her breath hot across him.

"Lea-AH!"

When she takes him into her mouth, the liar forgets how to talk.

She watches him through lidded eyes, enjoying the power she wields. A lick here and he moans, a nibble there and he hisses. When she sweetly suckles his tip, he jerks and gasps like a dying man.

Loki squirms, his hips pumping frantically. Pulling away she leaves him swaying in the cold air. Bewildered eyes lock on hers and she grins, untangling her hand from his.

"I win."

Confusion gives way to anger. He's silent as she climbs off the bed, bare feet padding across the floor. She wonders if he'll stop her. Loki is as prideful as he is stubborn and it may take more that this one night to remind him that he needs this fling more than she does.

The door gives way with a sharp click before his hand covers hers. He slams it shut, pressing her body into the smooth grain. Her breathing deepens when he leans into her, his erection throbbing against her back, his hands sliding over her body.

"Insufferable… irritating…"

She smiles, listening to the agitation in his voice. A sexually frustrated Loki is a rather inarticulate one. The Queen of Hel prefers him that way. Less time is wasted.

He suckles at her neck, one hand groping her breasts while the other slips between her legs. She leans into him, rubbing her ass against his erection, enjoying the way he squirms against her. Loki curses, his self control almost spent. Smirking she shifts her weight, allowing his tip to slide inside her. He pulls out immediately, flinging her onto the bed.

She's still reeling when he pushes her onto her stomach. His fingers slide over her swollen clit, working her with sickening familiarity. His fingers push inside, his thumb circling her clit.

"Do you like that Leah? Do you want more?"

She buries her moans in the blanket. He wants her to beg him for it. She damn near does. Luckily, for her, she's had eons to practice patience. It's never been Loki's strong point. His impatience wins out.

She damn near orgasms when he finally pushes inside her.

Loki fucks her thoroughly. His hips slam against her ass, his breath puffing hot against her shoulder, each thrust becoming more frantic than the last. She's impressed he's lasted this long. While attentive, he's not usually a marathon lover. Several fast jabs and she feels him shudder, his release lost in her own.

His performance has left her without enough energy to muster her normal escape. Ever perceptive, Loki uses her exhaustion to his advantage, gathering her into his arms, pressing soft kisses into her hair. He hesitates only a moment before pressing a soft kiss against her lips. His tenderness is more than she can fight. Returning the kiss, she decides for this one night she'll be his Leah and let them both find some measure of peace.

She leaves before sunrise, desperate to put distance between them when, in truth, she wants nothing more than to remain beside him. It's what he wrote her for and it is exactly why she denies him that last satisfaction, no matter the pain it causes her. Pride, she has found, is far more important that fairytale love.

Once upon a time a little boy dipped a pen into her blood and created his ideal companion. In return for her soul, she stole his heart. She wonders who committed the greater evil.

* * *

_**RomaneeConti - This French red Burgundy smells of berries, spices and leather. Dark in color, it hints at flavors of soy sauce, flowers and licorice. The aroma is rich and penetrating without being too profound. ….the wines have ranged from satin and silk to violets, wild cherries, raspberries and game. To which I add licorice, spice, plums and the forest floor._


End file.
